Part 4 of 4: Weird Houses I Live In

At any given time, I have an awesome (and I mean that in the original sense of the word) list of things that I intend or would like to do. I’m not talking about the Sisyphus-like round of weekly and daily tasks that keep life running. No, I refer to the things I would do should I not have to wash dishes, make dinner, walk the dog, do laundry, clean the ______, etc.

Ssometimes I get to some extra thing. One task on the Extra Time List was to do some fabric prettifying of the bathroom. I have a shower stall (no bathtub) so my pretty shower curtain was way too wide. So I cut off the extra fabric from the curtain and made a little decorative curtain, trim for the rug, and a tissue box cover.

You may remember that the walls in my bathroom are concrete, so I couldn’t use a curtain rod. Instead I made buttonholes and used micro Command hooks. The tissue box cover I saw on Kirin Notebook and again on My Paper Crane (it would have worked better if I’d remembered to add a seam allowance). Just simple little things, but definitely a good impact.

While I’m on the subject, I’d like to make a note about this “house” I live in. I can’t remember if I told you guys, but this place was built around 1932 and was a garage that was added onto. As nearly as I can figure, whoever owned the house did all the work himself. He had pretty good intentions, but (a) no discernible sense of style or aesthetics, (b) no professional skills, just amateur ingenuity and a hardware store, (c) a whole lot of time on his hands.

You may note the “privacy glaze” on the bathroom window. That stuff is just weird and old. And you can see a bit of the tile there under the rug, but that’s the most normal tile in the house. I’m not kidding when I tell you we have a yellow brick road in the kitchen, a sun in front of the bathroom sink and a triangle in front of the toilet. It was clearly a custom tile job. It makes Jeff crazy to look at it.  And there is that spot in between the old garage and the addition that’s not quite sealed, where occasionally a vine from outdoors starts growing inside.  Not to mention the kitchen that still makes me think I’m camping half the time.

That’s just the tip of the iceberg. There is more odd, one-off, inexplicable, uneven, painted over, hacked together, jerry-rigged, not-quite-functional crazy shit in this apartment than I can begin to tell you. I mean honestly, who else among you has a bedroom that’s like an underground bunker but with a vaulted ceiling? I have no idea what this guy was thinking while he did some of these things.

Ah well. I have a 10 minute walk to work, and I share no walls, and it’s not permanent. I keep telling myself that.

Linzer Cookies and other tales

3.5 cups of butter later, I remembered why I only bake once a year. Luckily, I was determined and stubborn enough that I finished the cookies even though I was totally fed up with the process half way into the first batch. Pictures? Not so many. I was often too covered in flour and butter.

My proudest accomplishment of this round of baking was Strawberry Linzer cookies.  2 hours = 14 painstakingly made cookies. Based on this recipe. They really are good, and they really do take a while. And to get those shapes, the dough really does have to be *exactly* the right temperature or you get to start all over. Also? Please only try to do this if you have a normally sized kitchen.

I also made Ginger Spice Cookies – like gingerbread but more spice. I picked this recipe because it had the most spice of any recipe I found.  Ginger juice that I made from real ginger, molasses, brown sugar, cinnamon, allspice and ground black pepper. YES. I may have added more spice than the recipe called for. I love my food to be flavorful! These are done (I made them into candy canes and tiny angels, stars, gingerbread men and trees) but need a bit of decoration still.

I also made these cookies from Epicurious. Except mine are Milk Chocolate Cranberry Oatmeal Cookies. The original recipe wanted bittersweet and white chocolates. I thought it would be too much. I think I was right. I added extra cranberries too.  These are actually my favorite of the three cookies I made. Tasty, with a slight crunch and a soft middle, with plenty of tart and sweet flavor. YUM.

Let me tell you, though, that I don’t bake most of the time because:

1) Cookies make me feel guilty.  First I put in the butter. Then the sugar. Then the white flour. And I think … that’s it? I’m eating pure Bad For Me? I CANNOT DO THIS. And then I do. Because mmmm, cookies are tasty. I happen to really disagree with Kate Moss, who said recently, to my everlasting irritation and disgust, “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” Quite too bad and sad for her! There’s a lot more to life than being skinny. I’ll eat her cookies too.

2) Baking pastries takes FOREVER. Preparation, refrigeration, cookie cutters, baking, cooling, decorating. Just be done already! Cooking is really way easier. Much more instant gratification. Much less exercise of my limited quantities of patience. Maybe it was just that I chose really difficult recipes?

3) I have to measure things. I am not the type of person who either follows directions or measures stuff. I “go with what feels right,” but this is not an acceptable way to do things when baking. Some people follow directions, follow patterns, follow instructions, follow rules, follow guidelines. I am definitely NOT one of those people.

And also. Let’s remember the Cardinal Rule of Cookie Baking Chez Miriam.

If you show up at my house and I offer you freshly-baked cookies, I have not magically turned into Super Housewife. Let’s just realize that this was one of those times my hyperness and OCD got the better of me. It’s Solstice-Chanukkah-Christmas. I’m allowed to be slightly crazy about something, right?

Be Right Back

Dear Interwebs,

If you will excuse me for an evening, Jeff and I are celebrating our 7th wedding anniversary today. Woo!

I have no real pearls o’ wisdom to dispense on the subject of relationships, except this.

After a while, whether you are married or not, in a committed relationship it ends up being as much about the life you build together as whatever romantic relationship started you off. Dogs, kids, trash pickup, fights, career changes, family excursions, budgeting, whatever else. All the mundane and the profound things. I’m lucky to have found someone to weather it with.

And he even puts up with my yarn and fabric lying around everywhere!